Homestar Running Back
by Antoine Bruce
Summary: After Strong Bad sees a bowl game on TV, he decides that Crazy Go Nuts University should have its own football team. After all, all he really needs is some players...and a stadium...and for CGNU to become an actual college...
1. The Plan

Disclaimer: I don't own Homestar Runner, I definitely don't own ESPN.

Strong Bad entered the studio and sat down. Upon seeing all the cameras and boom mikes and teleprompters and whatnot, he began to feel intimidated. He had never done an interview like this before. About a minute later, his interviewer sat down in a chair across from him. He noted a certain expression on Strong Bad's face that he had seen far too often. "Nervous?"

"No!", Strong Bad said, almost too contradictory. He was obviously nervous, but was also far too proud to ever admit to it.

"Just relax. If you think you're going to screw up, you probably will."

"A.K.A, the Strong Sad complex", Strong Bad thought to himself, chuckling at his own joke. This put him somewhat at ease.

"Okay, guys", the cameraman announced. "We're rolling in 5…4…3…2…" The interviewer then turned to the camera and began.

"Welcome everyone. I'm Dan Patrick, and I'm here in an exclusive ESPN interview with the man who is not only the owner, president, and superintendent of Crazy Go Nuts University, but is also the quarterback of their football team. The man who I am talking about, of course, is Strong Bad. Strong, er- Mr. Bad, er-"

"Just call me Strong Bad. A man of my level of awesome deserves his name to be spoken in full."

"Fair enough. Anyway, it's a pleasure to have you here today."

"It's a pleasure to be here, Dan."

"Thank you. I guess the first question I should ask is the question that's on everyone's mind. Just how does a college that didn't even exist a few years ago become a football powerhouse in such a short amount of time?"

"So you wanna know how we became a powerhouse, eh, Dan? Well, that's a good question. It all began when my big bro Strong Mad and me were watching a football game. I don't remember exactly what one it was, but I do know it had the word "bowl" in the title. Maybe it was, like, the Tulip Bowl, or the Daisy Bowl, I dunno, something about a flower. Anyway, we were watching, and maybe I never really realized just how great football is, but I was just hooked instantly!"

Strong Bad and his brother were watching the bowl game. While the elder brother was mostly just yelling random sayings in order to pump up a offensive set who he didn't quite realize couldn't hear him, Strong Bad was absolutely zoned in on the game. Every block, run, pass, and tackle he intently watched with exponential glee. During halftime, an idea dawned in his head. "Strong Mad?"

> "Take it to the house!!!"
> 
> "No, Strong Mad, listen. We need to be a part of this."
> 
> "Take it to the house?"
> 
> "Exactly! We're going to take it to their house! We're going to start our own college football team! A team that no one will be able to stop!"
> 
> "Take it to the house!!!"
> 
> "Glad to see you're like the idea, big bro."
> 
> "Of course", Strong Bad told Dan, "only a few minutes after I had my great idea did it hit a major snag."
> 
> "What was that?"

> "I realized that in order to play football, you needed, well, a football team."

-----

That's the end of chapter one. I know it's a bit short but you'll see where I'm going with it.


	2. Unexpected Help

Coach Z was relaxing in his living room when he heard the phone ring. Picking it up, he heard a familiar voice on the other side of the line.  
  
"Hey, Coach Z?"  
  
"Oh. Heya Strong Bad. What can I do you fer?"  
  
"Hey, uh, I was just wondering. You're a real coach, right? Like, 'Coach' isn't just your first name or something, right?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm the real deal. Why do you ask?"  
  
"Well, it's just that I'm making a college football team, and I figure it's probably going to need a coach, y'know? And I don't exactly know where to get a coach. The Cheat looked it up in the Yellow Pages for me, but there weren't any listings, so...will you do it?"  
  
"Gee, Strong Bad, I don't know. I mean, I haven't coached in years, and I'm really more interested in my hip-hop career now. What's in it for me?"  
  
"I'll get The Cheat to make you free Scope n' Cokes. On demand."  
  
There was a long pause on the phone.  
  
"It's a deal, man! When do I start?"  
  
"Well, right now. Especially since you need to help me recruit."  
  
"Alright, man. I'll try."  
"And that, Dan", said Strong Bad, who was now much more relaxed in front of the camera, "is how I got my first major acquisition." Mr. Patrick, meanwhile, was bewildered at what he was hearing. "What the hell?", he thought. "Scope n' Coke?"  
  
"However", continued Strong Bad, "the next person I acquired is actually the most important person on the entire team, which I can hardly believe myself, considering the circumstances..."  
  
Strong Bad was in his computer room, sitting down for yet another round of e-mail answering. "E-Mails. The food group...of the future. Dear Strong Bad, I heard from Coach Z that you're starting a college football team. I have a proposition to make about this. Come over to my house later and we'll talk. It's too complicated to say in just an e-mail. Please be serious about this; I think you'll like what I have to say. Sincerely, Marzipan." Strong Bad looked at the e-mail for a few seconds. Marzipan? Something seemed amiss. "So Marzy, you wanna talk football? Well, guess what, girl? I am in no mood for your hippie protests about my team. And you're right. I should be serious about this. That's why your e-mail is being seriously DELETED!" Strong Bad laughed and simply went on to the next e-mail.  
  
A few days passed. Strong Bad and Coach Z were walking along the sidewalk, looking in a NFL fantasy guide for potential prospects. They weren't having much luck.  
  
"The problem is", said Coach Z, "that way too many of these guys aren't eligible anymore. I just don't get it. If they were in college three years, couldn't they just come back?"  
  
Marzipan, watching and listening to their conversation, smacked her forehead with her nonexistent palm and sighed. She then walked out of her house and over to them. "Strong Bad, I really need to talk about this team you're making. Don't worry; I won't make any protests. I promise." Strong Bad was sure she was just going to make some useless point, but didn't want to be bugged further, so he decided to comply. "Alright, alright. You got ten minutes."  
  
"That's all I'll need."  
  
Marzipan and Strong Bad walked into Marzy's house together. "Okay, Marzipan, what is it you want?"  
  
"I want to help you."  
  
"You...what?"  
  
"You heard me. I want to help you."  
  
"Really? And just what kind of help would you provide?"  
  
"Admit it, Strong Bad. You and Z may love the game, but you wouldn't know a halfback from a nose tackle."  
  
"And you would?"  
  
Marzipan sighed. She then took a key out of her pocket and walked over to a door. "I swore I'd never show anyone this, but...I guess times change." Marzipan opened the door to reveal a room full of football memorabilia, a couch, and a widescreen plasma TV. "Welcome to my viewing parlor."  
  
Strong Bad simply looked on in shock. "Make out with me, girl. Right now." The same nonexistent hand Marzipan recently used to smack her forehead was now being used to smack Strong Bad's cheekbone. "Sorry about that."  
  
"It's okay. I didn't know how you'd react."  
  
"You're in here a lot, aren't you?"  
  
Marzipan smiled. "Why do you think I always let the answering machine pick up?"  
  
"But Marzipan, why wouldn't you show this to anyone? I mean, what's so wrong about a love-and-peace hippie having a passion for a roughhouse, inherently violent-oh. I see."  
  
"Exactly. But I think if all of Free Country is going to get the football vibe, I might as well follow suit in style. So anyway, I know of quite a few players we could recruit. I think with the right training, they could dominate."  
  
"Really? Who is it? Where are they?"  
  
Marzipan smirked like she couldn't believe he didn't know. "Don't you see? It's all of us."

* * *

And that's Chapter 2! What does Marzipan see in the citizens of Free Country that'll let them dominate? You'll find out soon enough.


	3. Tools of the Trade

As Strong Bad continued his story, Dan tried to get a word in. "Strong Bad, what you're saying leads me into my next question. To be perfectly honest, when I first heard about your team, they just looked like a ragtag group of kids. How did you know they would be so good?"

Strong Bad wasn't sure how to answer this question. The truth was, he _didn't_ know, but he was never one to admit one of his own faults. But after a few seconds of thinking about it, he decided it would be best to give credit where due. "Well, see it was Marzipan who told me about all these qualities that everyone in Free Country had. At first, I didn't want to believe her, but she was right. I mean, I do run the show with this team. Me, and maybe The Cheat. But I have to give her some credit. Out of all the awesome our team constitutes, I only have, like, 95 of it. Maybe 96. Then Strong Mad and The Cheat split a percent, and Marzy has the rest."

"So, Strong Bad, what did she see?"

Marzipan just continued to smirk at Strong Bad, at the same time wondering just how to put what she was thinking into words. "I just don't see how you can't see it", Marzipan finally said, "but I'll try to explain anyway. Let's start with Homestar-"

"Oh, I see. Starting with your boyfriend. Typical."

"I'm starting with him because of his talent. Maybe you haven't noticed, but Homestar can run. Runner isn't just his last name, y'know. He'd certainly be a prodigy at halfback."

"Okay, so that's one, but I still don't see how-"

"You want me to go down the list? Let's see. Strong Mad would be incredible on defensive line. I shouldn't have to tell you why. Bubs is a big guy, but he's got a bit of speed as well. He'd make a good linebacker. Strong Sad and the King of Town-"

"Don't bother telling me about them. Trust me, they're useless; they're just wastes of fat space."

"Exactly. That's why they rule."

"Yeah, I know, and guh-wha?"

"Strong Sad and the KoT are big and heavy and hard to move around. In other words, they're perfect for the offensive line. Same with Pom Pom."

"What are you talking about? Pom Pom's light as a feather! Yeah, he's big, but he's filled with helium or hydrogen or argon or potassium or one of those gasses."

"Strong Bad, potassium is not a gas at room temperature."

"Maybe at room temperature, but inside the bodily fortress of certain unknown doom that is Pom Pom, who knows?"

"We're getting off track. Pom Pom is good on O-line because he's big. He isn't heavy, but he's so big that he'll intimidate the opponent. Football is just as much a mental game as it is physical."

"Fair enough…so what about me?"

"Well, you'd obviously be the quarterback."

"Well, of course. I do have passing skill."

"Actually, you'd only be the quarterback because you're so self-absorbed that you'd have a mental seizure if anyone besides you was running the show. But that's not why you'd be such a good player. I've seen you kick The Cheat, and you can get some good distance on that poor guy. You would be excellent as a kicker or a punter. Which brings me to The Cheat himself. The Cheat would actually make a good wide receiver since he is so short. I know that seems to make absolutely no sense, but his height, or lack of it, means that he isn't in the defenders' field of vision. It might take a bit of threading the needle to get it to him, but I'm sure you can work on that. That leads me to the Poopsmith. I don't know about his football skill, but anyone who makes a career out of shoveling has got to be in pretty good shape. He certainly won't be a liability. Now, as for Homsar…"

"Wait, wait, wait. You honestly can't be serious this time. Homsar? This one I gotta hear."

"A big part of football is about confusing the opposing side of the ball. If the opponent doesn't know what you're up to, they don't know how to react. Confusion is pivotal, and there's no way you can deny that Homsar is the epitome of confusion."

"True." Strong Bad appeared to be counting on his fingers, despite the fact that he was wearing boxing gloves. "Marzipan, that's only ten players."

"I know."

"Yeah, and football teams have eleven players. At least."

"I know."

"So who's the eleventh?"

"Me. Who else?"

"What? No. No. Not gonna happen."

"And why not? I want to have some fun doing this too. Either you let me be on the team or you can kiss my help goodbye."

Strong Bad was very frustrated. Even after all he had seen, he was still afraid that Marzipan would go hippie on him. But he could already tell that without her, the team would be nowhere near its potential. "Fine, Marzy. You win. I'll let you on the team."

"Excellent!", Marzipan chirped. "But I have a question. This team is going to be Division I, right?"

"There are other divisions?", said Strong Bad, confused.

"Yes, that's why it's called 'Division I'", Marzipan said, silently adding "you moron".

"Well, I guess so. What's your point?"

"CGNU isn't really a college, is it?"

"No. Not really. I mocked up most of it just for that one e-mail. In reality, it's nothing more than a spare room in my house."

"Well, if you want it to be NCAA accredited, we better make it one fast."

"Whaddaya mean 'we'?"

"I'm sorry. _You_ better make it one fast."

"That's right I better- hey!"


	4. Underwhelming

Author's Note: I suppose the massive delay in this fic deserves something of an explanation. Well, I was writing chapter four, and hit a writer's block the size of a small planet. The fic was eventually forgotten. However, through a link from another site I found again, and remembered this fic. So, through force of will, I have decided to continue. Read, enjoy, and expect chapter 5 to be up in less than four months. I guarantee it.   
---------

Three months have passed since Strong Bad decided that he would have to ship Crazy Go Nuts University into shape if the NCAA would ever accept his team. All the citizens of Free Country were eventually recruited, although some took more convincing than others. Strong Sad, for example, accepted the offer only if he was "pummeled at halftime a maximum of every third game." While Strong Bad led one half of the team in building CGNU, Coach Z led the other half in training.

"C'mon, you guys!" Coach Z announced. "Just two more laps!"

"Coach, I can't… take it…. anymore", said Homestar Runner between pants. His shirt was so sweatsoaked that the star was beginning to peel. "Can't we…take a break?"

Coach Z had had just about enough of Homestar's insubordination. He hastily blew his whistle. "What's wrong, Homestar? My training regimen too tough for you?"

"No, not really. It's just that I cut a tire, I'm almost out of fuel, and my back end is torn to shreds. I don't think I can make it to the finish line. Can't I take a pit stop?"

The coach blew his whistle once again. "Pit stops are for the weak!"

Just then, Strong Bad came into the room. "Coach!" he said. I told you not to let these guys play racing games all day! Less Formula 1, more Division I!"

Coach Z quickly turned off the Playstation 2.

"Homestar", Strong Bad inquired, "why are you so sweaty?"

"I dunno. Maybe it's 'cause I've been directly under this heat lamp for the last half hour."

"Homestar! Why would you do that?"

"I dunno. I got caught up in the moment."

"What moment?"

"The moment I placed this heat lamp directly over me."

"Yeah, but…" Strong Bad realized he was never going to get a satisfactory answer and gave up. "Well, anyway, it's done."

If Coach Z was currently in a chair, he would have most certainly jumped out of it. "It's done?" he exclaimed. "CGNU is completed?"

"I just drove the last nail."

"Well, I gotta see this! C'mon guys!" The coach blew his whistle once more.

Homestar turned to his best friend. "Pom Pom, I'm gonna get tired of that fast." Pom Pom bubbled in agreement.

"Well guys," Strong Bad said proudly, "there it is. Crazy Go Nuts University."

From a distance, it appeared as if Strong Bad really put his heart and soul into building his school, but the closer you got, the more apparent it was that all he put into it was about 20 bucks worth of material. Apparently, brick was just too much for the budget to handle, so the middle Bad son opted for cardboard drawn on to resemble brick. The interiors of the buildings weren't much better. Doors were more often than not just drawn on instead of being actual doors. The only thing on campus that looked as if it might not have been stolen out of a recycling bin was the flagpole, proudly flying the pseudo-national flag of Strong Badia in all its glory.

"So, what do you think?" Strong Bad finally asked.

"Um…great, yeah", Coach Z said. No one had the heart to say what they were thinking. Pom Pom, however, had the heart to bubble it, and did so sarcastically.

Strong Bad was outraged. "What do you mean 'Whatever tuition costs, it's too much?' This place is, like, living art!"

Pom Pom now had a comment involving finger-paints in his head, but chose to keep it there this time.

"Anyway", Strong Bad continued, I've scheduled an appointment with the NCAA accrediting committee, who are going to be given a tour of the campus, and if we're lucky, make our school a bona-fide Division I team. And if we're unlucky, we'll bribe 'em." Everyone else laughed nervously. They didn't want to be forced to just sit there and blush while Strong Bad hastily presents them with a check, especially one made of cardboard.

"I don't know about you guys", Homestar finally uttered once Strong Bad has left, "but I think this is crap."

"I hear ya there, Homestar", said Coach Z, "but what are we going to do? The committee is going to be coming here in a few days! On top of that, we don't have the funding to pay for all the supplies!"

Knowing the fate of the team was at stake, Coach Z scheduled an appointment with the only person he knew who could settle this dire financial matter.

"So will you do it?"

"Ol' buddy, I thought you'd never ask!" Bubs said warmly. Of course, Bubs had his ulterior motives in the matter- after all, a football team needs a stadium, and a stadium needs concession stands- but he would have helped out nonetheless. "Just let me make a few phone calls, and this will all be sorted out."

A day passed. Unbeknownst to Strong Bad, Bubs' help had come through.

"Strong Bad!" Strong Sad whined. "Wake up! It's 1:30 pm! And you have a phone call!"

"Whuzza…grumbla…habagrumbun."

"Strong Bad!"

"Whuh? Fine, gimme the phone. Hello?"

The voice that came from other end was probably the last voice Strong Bad would ever expect.

"Hello, Circle Bralinda. Your team mezzerts have toldem where this abiltazon for sponsoraritivs."

"Who…wha…huh?"


	5. The Big Day

"Circle, I'm ready for distortion from the company."

"Wait a second", said Strong Bad, who was reasonably confused. "Who the crap are you?"

"I'm Senor Cardgage from Senor Cardgage Mortgage. I've been asked for help financiality."

"Senor Cardgage? _The_ Senor Cardgage? That guy that lived across the street from me when I was a kid? Dude, you're so cool!"

"Thanks be aquarium. Now, I feel your campaign needs for monetary ascertation."

"Wow. Senor Cardgage. Sure man, do whatever you want."

"Well, there's all some conditioner. I've wandered stadium to be 'Senor Cardgage Mortgage Arenarium'."

"Um, sure, okay."

Within the next week, a tidal wave of funds and supplies and workers came rushing into Free Country. When the dust settled, what came out wasn't the greatest university the world had ever seen, but it was certainly better than what Strong Bad had managed to come up with. While Strong Bad certainly appreciated the services that Cardgage has given him, he couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. After all, wasn't this supposed to be his project? A lot of things were going on without his approval, which he, well, didn't approve of.

"I just wish all my work wasn't for naught," said Strong Bad, gazing at the finished product.

"Nonsense! If your original CGNU wasn't such a pile of crap, none of this would have ever happened!" said Bubs, only half-joking.

"Yeah, Strong Bad," said Marzipan, "don't worry about it. The committee is coming tomorrow, so we better all get a good night's rest. You guys all know your parts in this, and we only have once chance. So let's do it, and do it right!"

"YEAH!" said everyone. This irritated Strong Bad a bit. "Is Marzy trying to take my team away from me?" he thought. However, Strong Bad was smart enough to know not to let this problem conflict with the plan of attack…at least for now. So he, showing a curious amount of restraint, kept his mouth shut.

The next day everyone in Free Country was up with the sun, most likely a first for the region. Everyone got into position. Two hours were spent waiting for the NCAA accrediting committee to come; the longest two hours of Strong Bad's life. Strong Bad looked up at the sun, which was still rising, and almost believed it was setting. The wait felt that long. Finally, a car rumbled into the drive which connected Free Country from the rest of the outside world. Once the car had come to a stop, Strong Bad, being the gentleman he is (yeah, I don't know what kind of gentleman Strong Bad is either), he opened the door and introduced himself.

"Welcome everyone. I am Strong Bad, owner, president and superintendent of Crazy Go Nuts University", he said, collecting handshakes when appropriate.

"Thank you, Mr. Bad. Just guide us through the tour, and we'll make our decision when we're done."

"Gladly." Strong Bad stopped at the first building after coming into campus. "This is the Business Administration building. Here, you will get to sit in on a lecture by our head economics professor. I believe today's lesson is on the advanced idiosyncrasies of supply and demand." Strong Bad opened the door to the lecture hall. Inside was Bubs, talking at a pace that would make an auctioneer blush.

"Now one day a couple of years ago I was packin' up shop and all of a sudden I found like 75 slaw dogs just sittin' there underneath the counter and I was thinkin' that I had to do something 'cause them dogs ain't gonna be no good the next day so I was tryin' to think like how I might just preserve 'em but they just didn't want to go and I was rackin' my brain to figure out what to do when alluva sudden I thought that I might just eat 'em, so I did an' that night I had these weird dreams and peoples was tellin' me that I had some sorta flyin' superpower but I had to protect it by not lettin' anybody get me to say my name backwards minus the first B. So the next day, I tried it out and it worked except that the 75 slaw dogs made me gain some weight so that I could only hover two or three inches above the ground. Any questions?"

The committee was less than impressed, but Strong Bad was mesmerized. "You mean the legend is true?"

"Mr. Bad?" said a committee member. "May we move on?"

"Oh. Of course." Strong Bad walked out and then walked for a good distance before coming to another building. "This is our foreign language building. Here you will have the chance to sit in on another lecture. However, I must warn you, this is an advanced class, and the professor has insisted that all use of English is forbidden."

The committee appeared to be impressed. Strong Bad entered the lecture hall. This time, The Cheat was instructing the class. Written on the blackboard were different conjugations of words in The Cheat, such as:

**Meereh**

Meeh

Mereh

Meer

Meireh

Meerimeh

"Do you know any of this language?" a committee member whispered to Strong Bad.

"I am good friends with the professor, so I know some, but not much. It is actually quite a difficult language to learn. A lot of improper verbs and such."

The committee nodded.

"Next," Strong Bad said as he was leaving, "we will visit one of our fine fraternities."

"Ah, Alpha Alpha Omega."

(Author's Note: If there actually is an Alpha Alpha Omega fraternity or sorority out there, I sincerely apologize.)

"Yep. The two A's stand for 'always awesome'. And we thought the horseshoe was a nice touch; it gives it a bit of a Western flair, I think."

"The horseshoe?"

"Yes, although during design, there were votes for the triangle, the upside-down V, and the O with the sideways I in the middle. Care to come in?"

"Sure, why not?"

Inside the building, we see Coach Z, Homestar, Strong Mad, and Strong Sad watching TV and looking bored.

"Girls", Homestar said, sighing.

"Cold ones", said Coach Z, with the same level of enthusiasm.

"Parties", said Strong Sad, showing no more morale than usual.

"STEREOTYPING!" yelled Strong Mad as quietly as he could.

"Well," said a committee member, "looks pretty good to me".

"Finally," said Strong Bad, "I'll take to the final stop on the tour: Senor Cardgage Mortgage Arena…rium.

The Arenarium actually sat on the plot of land where the sports field once stood, but you'd never know it now. In all actuality, there weren't too many changes, other than that the basketball hoops were uprooted and that the stands now seated 51,000. However, it was a good thing that Senor Cardgage did his homework as to what this college was really all about- every facet of the stadium was top of the line. The finished product was a field that any NFL team, much less college team, would be proud to call home.

"Strong Bad, I must say, this is fantastic! Your school was borderline until now, but this stadium seals the deal! We would be proud to shake the hand of the president of a NCAA-sanctioned Division I school."

Strong Bad obliged and shook the hands of the committee. "Thank you. It is an honor."

"However, we do have one question to ask…it's kind of a stupid question…"

"There are no stupid questions," said Strong Bad, "wait…actually, there are stupid questions. Many of them. But, in any case, what is it?"

"Well…where are we? I know we're in Free Country, but…what state? Honestly, we're not ever sure how we got here."

"I dunno," replied Strong Bad. "I never really thought about it before."

"We could just put them in Conference USA, since that division has no regional boundaries," a committee member suggested.

"I agree. Strong Bad, as of right now, Crazy Go Nuts University is a member of Conference USA. We'll send out the schedule for your first season in a few weeks."

"Thank you, sir!" said Strong Bad, who immediately turned back to the campus. "WE DID IT, EVERYONE! WE DID IT!"

"And that, Dan, is how we did it, and"- Strong Bad noticed that the cameras were off and the camera workers were just standing around. "Hey! What's going on here?"

"We had to go to commercial about 3 minutes ago," said Dan Patrick. "Sorry we had to do that, but that was a _really_ long flashback."

"Yeah, I suppose it was. I still have more time to talk about the team, right?"

"Certainly."

"Good…good."


	6. Game One

(Author's Note: Sorry this one took a while, but I've had technical difficulties the last two weeks or so. And now, onto the show.)

"And we're back in 5…4…3…2…"

"Welcome back everyone," stated Dan. "If you've just joined us, we're here with Strong Bad, owner, president, and quarterback, among other things, of the CGNU Dumples. Now, when we left for commercial, you finished talking about how the team got together. Now, let's get to this, your first season."

"Certainly," said Strong Bad.

"With two games to go in the regular season, the Dumples are 10-1, undefeated in Conference USA, and if you win out, are a lock for the conference title, and with a bit of luck, have a chance at the national championship. In your first season, records like this are unheard of. How is this even possible?"

"Well, Dan, I can't give away my training secrets. In fact, I probably shouldn't have even told you that we _have_ training secrets. But I can give you an overview of the season."

"Will this be another flashback?"

"Probably."

"Oh. Well, warn me when you do these, okay?"

"Alright, alright…"

"Okay, guys, let's go out there and beat them to the curb!" yelled Coach Z enthusiastically. The CGNU locker room before their first game was full of energy.

Everyone was sporting brand new uniforms in CGNU red and black. "Now normally, the goal of the season is to go undefeated. Let's start that goal and win today! Now get out there and take them down!"

The team rushed out of the locker room and onto the field, cheering all the way. As they got to the field, Strong Bad approached Marzipan.

"Hey, Marzy. How about a scouting report?"

Marzipan smiled. "Sure. Duke is a force to be reckoned with in basketball. In football…not so much. We don't have room to get cocky, but this should be a comfortable win."

"Well, alright then."

The Dumples won the coin flip and elected to receive. On the kickoff, Homestar looked impressive, displaying some flashy moves and making it to midfield before he was finally taken down.

"Alright, Homestar," said Coach Z, "let's see if we can get the rest of the way."

"Right on, Coach!"

Strong Bad took the first snap in the history of the Dumples' program and looked downfield. Marzipan was open, as was The Cheat. But then, just as Strong Bad was about to pass, he saw a hole he could run through, and took it. Unfortunately, a linebacker saw Strong Bad coming, and the hole quickly closed. The ball popped out of Strong Bad's hands as he was tackled, and the Duke linebacker picked the ball up and ran all the way back for a touchdown.

"Strong Bad, what the hell was that?" yelled Coach Z, who was clearly angry, along with the rest of the team.

"I thought I could make it through!"

"You had two wide receivers open! Get your head in the game!"

The rest of the game fared no better. Duke won by a score of 52-7, with the Dumples' only score being when Homestar returned a punt for a touchdown. After the game, the team felt absolutely dejected.

"Strong Bad, we need to talk," said Marzipan.

"Tell me about it! We got the crap beat out of us! That scouting report clearly sucked."

Marzipan pretended she didn't hear that. "Strong Bad, you can't be so selfish."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean there's no 'I' in 'team'."

Upon hearing this Homestar immediately perked up, and grabbed a dictionary. He then started to meticulously search through the pages.

"Homestar," wondered Marzipan, "what are you doing?"

"I am verifying your case," Homestar said matter-of-factly.

"Don't."

"Alright, Marzi, but don't come cryin' to me when you're the victim of a blatant misspelling."

"Strong Bad," Marzipan continued, "football is a team sport. One person just can't be the center of everything, even if that person is you. Until you understand that, this is going to be a long season. So I suggest you begin understanding it now, if not sooner."

A few days later, Strong Bad was sitting at home.

"Oh, I'm just an e-mail whose grammar is good," Strong Bad sang while typing the e-mail run code into his Compy, "Oh Lord, please let Strong Bad read it like he should."

"Dear Strong Bad," he read aloud. "I saw the Dumples game last weekend on TV. You should be ashamed! That was the most miserable football I've ever seen!" Strong Bad was not amused. "Oh yeah?" he replied, "Well, this e-mail is the most miserable…case of…not…using…the letter Q! Yeah, really! How do you think QBert feels right about now? Onto the next e-mail. 'Dear Strong Bad, your team really sucks! What's the deal?' What's the deal? Here's the deal: I'm awesome, and you're DELETED! Next e-mail: 'Dear Strong Bad: I saw your first game and I have to say I was disappointed. Your team appears to have talent; however, there seems to be no synergy. Everyone has to work as a single unit in order for the team to function. Even though I am not happy with your performance, I still think you have what it takes and am looking forward to your next game.'" This one hit a chord with Strong Bad. He checked the signature. There wasn't one. Strange. This e-mail seemed to hit on the same points Marzipan was talking about. Strong Bad attempted to reply several times, but couldn't get a handle on what to say. Then in hit him: He was right. Marzi was right. They were all right. And with that, Strong Bad stood up out of his chair and made a statement.

"From this day forth," Strong Bad said to no one in particular, "I will help out the team. I will be that one…gear-turny thingamawhatzit that'll turn the gears of this team at full power! For the team…and for Free Country…I will be…selfless!"

Strong Bad began to walk triumphantly, but stopped in mid-step.

"How the crap do I be selfless?"


	7. Overcompensation

Strong Bad lay in his bed, wondering how he do this; how he would be selfless. Suddenly, he got an idea. "Well, if I am selfish," he thought, "and selfless is the opposite of selfish, then I should just act the opposite of how I normally do. Would that work? I mean, it's gonna be awful painful, but I guess it's worth trying. It won't kill me…I hope." Strong Bad then took a deep breath and walked into Strong Sad's room. He saw his little brother writing something; probably some depressing poetry or something or that sort.

"Hey lil' bro."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," said Strong Sad. "What is it today, the arms? Today's Tuesday, right?"

"No, you got it all wrong. I don't want to mercilessly pummel you into the ground as if you were some sort of insect."

"You…_don't?_"

"No. I thought maybe we could play a board game or something, like Monopoly, or Scrabble, or backgammon."

"Strong Bad, the last time we played Monopoly, you claimed I had to pay $4200 for Dork Tax. And you kept making counterfeit $9700 bills."

"Technically, that was The Cheat. But…c'mon, I'm serious here! Help me out!"

"I don't think so."

Strong Bad growled and left, slamming the door behind him. Shortly after, The Cheat walked up to him, which confused Strong Bad about what to do. "Well," he thought, "normally, I'd kick The Cheat. But I kick because I love. So, the opposite might be to pet the Cheat, but that would be a sign of affection, and...that wouldn't work. So…"

"Meeh?" said The Cheat inquisitively.

"Hey…um…bye!" said Strong Bad, running off.

"That was uncomfortable, to say the least," he thought. Strong Bad then thought it would be best to get out of the house. Maybe there, he could show his newfound selflessness better. Walking around he found the Poopsmith working away. Strong Bad took another deep breath and walked over to him.

"Hey Poopsmith, how ya doing?"

The Poopsmith nodded toward him.

"You, uh, you need any help?"

The Poopsmith smiled. He quickly walked to the shed and got out another shovel, presenting it to Strong Bad.

"This shovel looks pretty clean. Guess no one ever really wants to help you, huh?"

The Poopsmith smiled and nodded. He then took out a pen and pad of paper from his pocket, writing "So, what's the deal? Community service?"

"No, no. I'm just tryin' to help out the team, y'know? They say I care about myself too much."

The Poopsmith took the pad back, writing "You mean you had to be told that?"

"Well, you see- hey! Alright, so I might have known. That's why I'm doing this; I'm helping out the town so I can help out the team."

At this point, Marzipan strolled along, mumbling something under her breath. Upon seeing Strong Bad at work- the Poopsmith's work, no less- she was reasonably surprised.

"Strong Bad, what is going on? Community service?"

"Why do people keep saying that? No, it's just that I'm trying to help out the town."

"In other words, you were insulted that people called you selfish and are now overcompensating for it."

"No…yes…maybe?"

"Strong Bad, all you need to do is just throw the ball around more. You don't need to do anything drastic. Besides, you doing charity work is just…weird. Like, really weird. Homestar reciting Shakespeare weird."

"Homestar reciting Shakespeare?"

"Don't ask."

Outside Marzipan's house, Homestar looked indignant. He was wearing a toga instead of his normal star shirt and was holding a skull in his nonexistent right hand.

"What the crap, Juliet?" whined Homestar. "I've been out here for an hour and a half! That's it. I'm going home."

"So," said Strong Bad, "you mean I don't have to do any of this?"

"Nope."

"Whoo-hoo!" Strong Bad threw his shovel to the ground. Take that, you…crap-shoveling…guy!"

Two days later, the team boarded a flight to their next game. Strong Bad sighed in his chair and began to read the book he brought with him, _This Book is Also Better Than 1st, 2nd, and Quite Possibly Even 3rd Base_, the sequel to the original. He looked to his left and saw Marzipan trying to get some sleep. Strong Bad noticed that she must have remarkable poise, since Homestar was sitting right next to her and hadn't shut up since the plane took off. "Marzi," Strong Bad thought, "if it wasn't for you, I don't know if this dream would've ever gotten off the ground. We lost the first game, but it was all my fault. This game, I will win- no, _we _will win. We all will win."

"Oooh! A little light!"

"Shut up, Homestar!"


	8. Oregon Duck Shirt

The plane carrying the team landed. Everyone got their bags and headed out to the terminal.

"So, Marzipan," said Strong Bad, "do you have a scouting report for this one?"

"Unfortunately, I do. Currently, Oregon is one of the top 15 teams in the nation. I'm afraid this game could get ugly fast. Vegas says we should lose by 24, and seeing both our and their quality of play, I can't say I disagree."

"C'mon, Marzi," said Coach Z, "have a little faith."

Marzipan smiled. "I'll try."

The team took a bus ride to the stadium. Once there, Homestar broke away from everyone, quickly entering the arena.

"Must just be excited or something," said Coach Z.

"Hey, I'm excited too, but at least I know how to walk at a normal pace," replied Strong Bad.

A few minutes later, everyone except Homestar suited up in the locker room. Most of the players were concerned as to their tailback's whereabouts.

"Where the crap is Homestar?" said Strong Bad. "We go out onto the field in five minutes!"

Just as Strong Bad finished talking, Homestar appeared. The team immediately noticed that he was not wearing his normal star shirt, but instead the duck shirt reminiscent of when he and Strong Bad first met.

"So," he said, "how do you like it?"

"Homestar," Marzipan inquired, "where did you get that shirt?"

"From the souvenir stand."

"Wait…it's an _Oregon_ duck shirt?"

"Of course. Why did you think I was so excited to come here? I lost my old duck shirt a long time ago, and this is the only place I know that you can get them."

"You've been here before?"

"Marzipan, of course I have. Where do you think I got the first shirt?"

"When did you go to Oregon?"

"Oh, it was a long time ago. Back then, I was working as a pharmacist in Missouri. I can't say I didn't enjoy my old life, but when news broke about the new frontier and the thought of beautiful land on the ocean's coast right there for the taking, I knew I had to take advantage. To this day, I still don't know why I was so adamant about it. The adventurer inside me clicked, I suppose. Anyway, a few weeks later, I had packed up all my goods and provisions and was ready to head out into uncharted territory. I joined up with a wagon train of people like myself, wanting nothing more than a piece of those endless acres. Days became weeks became months on the trail, and I'll be honest; I thought of packing it up several times and just going home. However, I saw all the rivers I crossed and that I would have to recross and I knew that my days of being a pharmacist in Missouri were over. During the trip, I took quiet joy in seeing species of animals and plants that I had never seen before; I was like being in a different country, and in a way, it was. Sadly, shortly before the wagon train set out to cross the Columbia River, what was considered to be the most arduous part of the journey, I died of dysentery and the game ended."

At this point, Homestar looked up.

"Hey, where'd everybody go?"

"Get out here, Homestar!" yelled the coach. "The game's starting!"

Oregon won the coin toss and elected to receive. On the first play from scrimmage, the quarterback looked for a receiver but couldn't find one in time and was sacked by Strong Mad.

"THIS IS MY HOUSE!" Strong Mad yelled.

During the huddle, Strong Bad attempted to correct his older brother.

"See…that enthusiasm? I love that," he said. "However, this isn't our house. It's their house."

"THEIR HOUSE?"

"Right."

During the next play, Oregon's quarterback tried to pass again and was sacked again.

"THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!" yelled Strong Mad, confident he had gotten it right.

Strong Bad laughed softly. "Closer."

The rest of the game went somewhat smoothly. While there were several lead changes, neither team managed to break away. With only forty-five seconds left in the final quarter, Oregon led, 23-21. The Dumples called a timeout. Everyone was exhausted. CGNU was on Oregon's 48-yard line, well out of field goal range. It would take a lot to pull this one off.

"Okay, everyone," said Strong Bad, "let's just get the win. I don't have much else to say other than that. We've already done a lot better than anyone thinks we should have, so let's go all the way and win!"

"That's right!" exclaimed Marzipan. "We need this win. We need the whole country to know that we can tangle with anyone and come out with victory!"

"Dwaahaahaa", replied Homsar, "Positrons maimed the 8-track."

"You heard him!" Coach Z answered. "Let's do this! Break on 3!"

"1, 2, 3, BREAK!"

Everyone lined up for the play. Strong Mad hiked the ball to his brother, and Strong Mad looked downfield, seeing Marzipan open about ten yards out. Strong Bad put the ball and air, and Marzipan caught it, but was tackled before she could get out of bounds.

"Call a timeout!" yelled Strong Bad.

"We don't have any time outs!" replied Marzipan. "We're going to have to go for a field goal. It's our only chance.

"How far is it?"

"Fifty-five yards. I hope you brought your leg today."

With the clock running out, The Cheat set up to hold the ball for Strong Bad. Strong Bad kicked it accurately, but The Cheat didn't release his grip soon enough and was launched into the air along with the ball.

"Meh meeh MEEREEEH!"

The Cheat wasn't much of a math whiz, but he could tell that the ball was going to land short; it needed a little extra oomph. Therefore, in one fluid motion, he grabbed the ball, set it back over his head, and threw it with all his might towards the goal.

The ball sailed through the uprights. Expectedly, the whole CGNU team went nuts.

"Hot dog! We got it!"

"No one can stop us!"

"CELEBRATION!"

"We're the best in the country!"

"I'm like a cold shepherd's pie!"

"The Dumples are invincible!"

"And the rest is history," said Strong Bad, completing his interview. "Since that day, we haven't lost a game and are 10-1, like you said."

"Well," replied Dan, "that completes our exclusive interview with Strong Bad. Thanks for coming out to do this, and good luck in your next game."

"With the way we're playing?" Strong Bad thought. "We don't need it."


	9. Full Metal Homestar

Once Strong Bad got back to Free Country, he noticed that there was a lot of commotion going on in the area.

"Guys, what's the deal?"

"Oh, nothing major," Strong Sad whined. "Everyone's just so excited about how Homestar's on the cover of Sports Illustrated. I don't see what the big deal is, but"-

"You don't see what the big deal is? Strong Sad, how can you be so consistently stupid? I mean, even Homestar has his flashes of insight."

"Hey, no one cared when I got on the cover of Pictionary Quarterly."

Strong Sad then showed the cover of the magazine with his picture on it. He is holding a drawing of what appears to be a scribble. The caption reads: "Strong Sad properly draws 'abstract' and the Greystones win U.S. Regionals."

"That's completely different! That's just some sort of nerdular board game magazine. This is Sports Illustrated we're talking about here."

"Well, Homestar's over at his house if you want to talk to him."

Strong Bad decided to take that offer and walked over to Homestar's house. Once he opened the door, he saw Homestar wearing the orange bowl on his head and wielding the wooden spoon Strong Bad was familiar with, much to his disgust.

"Not this again…" Strong Bad grumbled.

"You! Why are you not in your quarters?"

"Homestar, what are you talking about?"

"Don't disrespect your coll-o-nell like that, maggot!"

"Maggot? No, I mean, why are in your Homestarmy quote-unquote 'uniform' ".

"Don't you know anything, maggot? I saw the schedule for this week. We're playing Army. There is no way the Homestarmy is going to stand idle while an army ravages my football squadron!"

"Homestar, it's not an actual _army_, it's just a football"-

"That's _Coll-o-nell_ Homestar, maggot! But I'll let you off this time 'cause I have a job for you. Round up all the other members of the Dumple Infantry. We need to discuss tactics."

"'Dumple Infantry'?"

"On the double, maggot!"

Strong Bad wanted to object, but was afraid Homestar could leave the team behind in his current quasi-insane state unless he complied. So, Strong Bad got everyone together for a team meeting."

"Okay, everyone," Homestar said to the team. "You know why we're all here, so let's get to work."

"Um, Homestar?" asked Coach Z. "Shouldn't I be leading this? I mean, I am the coach."

"Oh, you're the coach, huh? Well, coach, where are you from?"

"I'm…um…I'm from a foreign land."

"A foreign land? _A foreign land?_ Only steers and bad hip-hop artists come from a foreign land, and I don't see any horns growing out of your head!"

"Homestar, what is your problem?" asked Bubs angrily.

"My problem? Tell me Bubs, how tall are you?"

"Oh, I guess I'm about 5-foot-11."

"Really! I didn't know they stacked crap that high!"

Upon hearing this, The Poopsmith quickly scribbled a note, which Homestar picked up.

"What's this? 'We don't. The stacks can only be five feet high. Union regulations'?"

Homestar crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it down.

"Okay, maggots. Here's the plan. Intelligence shows that this army is going to try to take one piece of Free Country before any other. The Arenarium! Sadly, our forces around the stadium are like Swiss cheese. Unruly civilians they can handle, but a trained military brigade will bull its way right through. Therefore, we must prepare knowing they will make it inside. Once there, intelligence has reported that they will defend one of the two end zones. We're not sure which one yet, but that shall be known in due time. It should also be noted that the army may periodically abandon one end zone in order to defend the other, which would confuse us indefinitely. I say 'would', of course, since we know about it and can prepare."

"As for the battle itself," Homestar continued, "you're going to have to trust your coll-o-nell on this one, but I've seen a number of these battles in my time. There are many, many shifts of momentum; the best advice I can give you is to strike, strike, strike, right into the throat of the enemy. March relatively straight, as apparently it is considered dishonorable to them to run too far to one side or the other. No matter what, the goal remains clear: Push them back, and don't stop pushing them back until we have liberated whichever end zone they have chosen to defend. Do that enough, and the Arenarium will be reclaimed, although I fear the goalposts may become friendly fire."

Everyone just sat there.

"Is that clear enough?"

"Um, yes, sir?" Strong Sad squeaked out.

"Alright then! Company…go home!"

Once at the game, Coll-o-nell Homestar marched to midfield for the coin toss. Immediately, the referee objected to the additions to his uniform.

"Mr. Runner, you can't have that spoon with you on the field. Also, that bowl is not a proper helmet."

The referee took the items from Homestar. Homestar simply walked normally over to the bench and got his helmet.

"Um…Homestar? Coll-o-nell? Are you okay?" said Strong Bad, who was curious at Homestar's sudden change in posture.

"'Coll-o-nell'? Strong Bad, have you been drinking soy sauce again?"

"You…don't…what?"

"Strong Bad, I know you like Szechwan cooking, but this is getting out of hand. Maybe we need an interinvention."

The Dumples won the game easily, 45-7. After the game, Strong Bad wondered why Homestar suddenly lost his military persona.

"Okay, Homestar. Can you hold this spoon and put on this…um… 'hat' for me?"

"Oh, sure. That's easy." Homestar did what was requested.

"Well…do you feel any different?"

"Um...not really."

"Crap! That's not it, I guess," Strong Bad thought. "Okay, Homestar, you can take it off now."

"No…I'll keep it on. I like it."

"Fine, whatever."

"Okay, everyone!" announced Coach Z. "Our final game is an away game against Louisville. This one is for the Conference USA Championship. Let's go all the way, guys; 11-2 just won't cut it anymore."

"Oh? Well, I don't know what an eleven-and-two is, but I bet it would cut _you_, maggot!" said Homestar, clearly back in military form.

"What the cra- would someone get that wooden spoon away from this guy already?"


	10. Some Sort of Challenge

"Folks, if you've just tuned in, you have missed one hell of a game," the ESPN announcer reported to the microphone. "It has been back and forth the entire night, and I along with everyone else in this booth have been wondering if the clock will finally strike midnight on the Dumples' season. One minute left in the fourth, and CGNU leads by four, but Louisville is threatening inside Dumple territory. A field goal is moot, though; the end zone is the Redbirds' only option at this point."

Both sides line up at the line of scrimmage.

"Kellerson looks downfield…scrambles a bit…throws to the end zone!"

Marzipan, playing cornerback, saw the ball in the air and immediately took off toward that part of the field. She jumped up, and got both of her nonexistent hands onto the ball, landing onto the ground with a thud.

"It's intercepted! The ball is intercepted! The Dumples have won Conference USA!"

Strong Bad downs the ball a few times, and the game is over.

"Marzy, you did it!" said the coach happily.

"It's not over yet, you guys," replied Marzipan. "We got our bowl game to worry about now."

"What bowl are we going to be in?"

"It depends. Unfortunately, since we're not in a top-tier conference, we'll probably get the shaf"-

Just then, Marzipan looked upward and gasped. ESPN2 was on the provided television, and she saw a score on the ticker at the bottom of the screen: Texas 31, Oklahoma 16.

"That makes things very, very interesting."

"What are you talking about?" asked Strong Bad.

"Oklahoma's loss means that there are no more undefeated teams in Division I. There are now five teams with one loss each competing for two spots in the national championship game. That includes us."

"So…are we going to make it?"

"Sadly, I don't think so. Like I was saying, since we're not in a top-tier conference, we'll most likely get the shaft when it comes to these things. We've done all we can, however. Our season is over. All that's left to do is sit and wait."

For the next week, everyone was on pins and needles wondering if they would get the berth. Strong Bad sat by the phone for hours waiting for the bowl selection committee to call him and inform him of what bowl the team would receive. Finally, he realized that he needed to get his mind off the team, taking out a pen and some scraps of paper.

**Teen Girl Squad!**

Cheerleader! (Cheers for the Dumples!)

So and So! (Calculates their finances!)

What's Her Face! (Wants on the team!)

The Ugly One! (Mascot!)

Cheerleader: Hey girls, the Dumples game is on!

So And So: Since when is it cool for you to like football?

Cheerleader: Um…uh…IT JUST IS DAMN IT!

What's Her Face: I think college football is awesome.

Cheerleader: Don't make it worse, baggy pants!

PYLON'D! What's Her Face is squished by a falling 20-foot tall end zone pylon

The Ugly One: She should have punted.

PUNT! The T-Rex come out of nowhere and punts The Ugly One

The Ugly One: Dag, I guess.

Cheerleader and So And So are watching the game

Cheerleader: That Strong Bad is my favorite.

So And So: Yes, he is easily the best football player in this universe or any other.

PARALLEL UNIVERSE!

sharp cut to a parallel universe. Everything is the same except Cheerleader is wearing So And So's clothes and vice versa

Cheerleader: It's true.

DEWORRA!

arrows shoot tail first out of nowhere and piece them both

So And So: Ow! Our parallel skin!

**It's Over!**

"Ahhh...comedy," said Strong Bad pleasantly. "Wait…that didn't take my mind off the team at all!"

Just then, the phone rang.

"Yes? ... This is him. … Thank you. Thank you very much."

Strong Bad, smiling, immediately called Marzipan.

"Hi, this is Marzipan. I'm out observing the sad futility of non-coniferous trees in winter, so leave me a message."

beep "Hello, Ms. Pan. This is Steven Repoman calling you to inform you that you haven't been paying any of your bills. I won't bother to list any of them individually, since you're simply not paying any of them. However, I'll let you off the hook if you allow one of my esteemed representatives who bears an uncanny resemblance to that The Cheat creature that lives around your parts but, I assure you, is _not_ The Cheat to take some of your things. Y'know, like a cassette player, or a stereo, possibly a Colecovision if you've got one of them stored away, something cool like that. Just leave the door unlocked tonight, 'cause he'll be over around 1 a.m. This is Steven Repoman, signing off."

"Heh-heh-heh…oh crap! I forgot!"

beep "Uh, hi, Marzipan. I wanted to tell you that I got a call today, and we're in the national championship game against USC! I know this is so exciting for all of us, and I want to assure you that this is _not_ a crank call, like that Repoman call I gave you a few minutes ago…which is yet another example of a call that is real and certainly not a crank call, and also one that I didn't actually make, but…heard through…my new astute amplified hearing device I have invented. Yes, now everyone can have audio surveillance on whomever they want at the push of a button, thanks to me! I'd show you the prototype, but Strong Sad just spilled some sort of Gloom Cola on it, so I can't. However, I will punch him later on. So, like I was saying…championship, girl! USC!"

A month later, the Dumples arrived at the Rose Bowl, the site of the 2005 National Championship Game. Once there, they met up with an unexpected fan.

"Hey! Strong Bad!"

Strong Bad looked and saw a person wearing a mask similar to his. However, unlike some of the paper masks he had seen lately, this one looked real. Strong Bad walked over.

"Hey. Who are you?"

"You don't know who I am? Well, I suppose you wouldn't know who I am since you've never seen me before. People call me Stinkoman. I'm from Free Country, too, but from the year 20X6!"

"20X- what?"

"I found this newspaper in a time box talking about a championship football game. I don't know what football is, but the pictures made it look like some sort of fighting challenge. Challenges have been scarce lately, so I went back in time X1 years to check this out!"

"Wait. If you're from the future, do you know who wins?"

Stinkoman laughed uncontrollably.

"I take it you don't know."

"Of course not! A challenge of fighting is boring if you know who will win before it begins. Good luck though!"

"Thanks…I guess. … That was weird."

The team made its way inside the stadium and suited up.

"Okay," said Coach Z, "I suppose since I'm the coach I should make some sort of speech. I must admit, though, I've never done anything like this, so bear with me. As good as this team is, USC is at least our equal. I won't lie. I also won't lie in saying that there are a lot of fans and reporters out there who don't think this team has what it takes. But what do they know? They are just fans. They are just reporters. I am your coach. I know that we may be equals in skill, but this group has enough heart for ten teams. Heart is what has gotten us through this season. Heart is what has allowed us to win 12 straight. Heart isn't something that shows up on paper; it can't be categorized or represented by a number. But heart is what will win us this game. Now go out there, and give those fans the greatest frortball game they've ever seen!"

"Um…I'm sorry, coach," said Homestar, "the greatest what?"

"You know what I mean!"

And with that, the Dumples took the field.


End file.
